Charleston, South Carolina This story has no hidden meaning. As a matter of fact, it’s case in point why most of you are lying when you tell your sibling or your best friend you’d do anything in the world for them. I don’t know if it was because of the approaching holidays, because of loyalty, or because Wayne thought the sun rose and set in his brother’s ass, Deangelo pretty much called him to the carpet and Wayne was forced to eat his own words. (more…)
Even a speck of common sense tells us that the shortest way to get from one point to another always takes the path of a straight line. Following a meandering road that zigs left and zags right is surely less efficient than taking a direct route. We hold these truths to be self-evident.
Often, upon tackling a story, I’ll familiarize myself with the geographical location of the crime scene and get a flavor of the demographics that comprise the area of interest. It generally serves no purpose other than pacifying certain curiosities within myself and if, for some reason they prove to be interesting enough, I’ll include a portion of my findings as a prelude to the tale.
I found nothing particularly noteworthy in Paris, Illinois; the demographics seemed to reflect a quintessential little town in the Midwest with a population a little over 8,500. That was before I stumbled upon the description of Vance Park, “a hushed quiet place that’s perfect for meditation”. Vance Park is a sunken garden that hosts a serpentine wall and at the far end of this little oasis, a lion’s head fountain. I have to wonder if this tiny community realizes the stark symbolism between Vance Park’s settings and the real life events that culminated in murder, the rigidly straight wall of justice made serpentine by the pre-existing factors that led a once quiet and reserved young man;s actions to emulate a lion’s roar.
Let’s meet the accused, 16-year-old Terry Payton. (more…)
Houston, Texas I’ve bitched and moaned about the judicial system allowing people to skate by on insanity pleas. I’ve always regarding “insanity” as a moot point for it can be argued that anyone committing some of the more heinous crimes are indeed, “insane”. Generally, I think it’s an easy out for some of these fuckers, those who know full-well what the hell they’ve done, know the consequences, and can act well enough to cop an easy deal spending time in a mental facility.
I wrote about one guy who’d murdered an old lady, set her on fire, and was found “insane”. He was further rewarded by earning day trips out with the other “containable” wards and one particular trip was to the County Fair where he was “insane” enough to slip away from the employees and go on the lamb for several days. That shit just pisses me the hell off. It happens time and time again, they spend their “time” in a play home and then some crackpot shrink petitions the courts saying they’re now cured of what ailed them and they’re out with no probation only to become a murderous, raping, fuckwad again.
And then there’s these two brothers. Twins. Their story has taught me there’s an exception…because I’m here to say you only have to look at these twins to realize they’re a little left of center and just knowing they stepped over their dead rotting mother for three months pretty much seals the deal. (more…)
Bangor, Maine I know there are some extremely jealous married women out there, especially when it comes to any “ex” their husband may have. At one time, prior to being married, Mr. Goat called me by his ex’s name. I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and gave him one of those “What the…” looks and as the realization of what had happened settled into that sometimes confusing head of his, he explained how it should be taken as a compliment. Fourteen years later, I’m still processing that statement. My point is: I didn’t beat him to a bloody pulp over the mention of her name, I didn’t maim him after running into her at some store. No. I save those feelings of rage for leaving cabinet doors open, toilet seat lids up, and grape jelly smeared across the counter-top – those daily reminders that some men are just brain damaged. Not once has jealousy sent me into a tailspin to where I’d take a plastic ball bat and ram it through his ballsack to his guts.
The same cannot be said for Roxanne Jeskey, the 48-year-old crazy bitch who’s now accused of the torture and death of her husband because of a phone call between he and his ex. (more…)
Mobile, Alabama There’s nothing that will make me homesick for the South quicker than a few pictures or a good story. I have a great love for the people in the deep South. I seized the opportunity to work with a number of true Southerners and gathered enough material to fill a book of short stories. I’ve neither scratched my head so much nor laughed so hard as I did while working with this “breed” of people. And they are a breed. Especially the ones who found their way under my guidance. I’m not sure if my upper management wanted to sink me or if they actually thought I could do something with some of these characters. Nonetheless, I seemed to end up with the most lively, 100% of whom were bussed in from Northern counties in the state, and all of whom brought with them daily woes of their extended families.
When I first read this story, a couple a days ago, I saw “Prichard man” and immediately looked at the name of the accused to see if 1.) he’d been employed by us or 2.) he was the cousin/nephew/son/husband of someone we employed. I was sort of disappointed to find his name was not familiar and extremely disappointed I’ve lost contact with my two favorite ladies down there so I could get their take on what transpired. I’m positive they know someone who’s given them the inside story here and I can almost see and hear Miss Mack standing there with her hand on her hip, rolling those eyes back in her head as she’s relaying the gory details. “Shit girl, that boy done dug his uncle’s eyes out. One at a time, girl. Dirtied up that spoon and everything. I ain’t eating off their shit no more.” (more…)
Schuyler County Illinois Not knowing how the internet works, a Central Illinois sheriff decided the best way to learn was to just jump in head first. He would have chosen feet first but he’d not seen them in years. That’s really not important, the fact he was courageous enough is all that matters. We like that character attribute in those who’re sworn to protect and serve. But a funny thing happened on the way home to plow those fields in farmville after a long night of hunting the [ever so elusive] anhydrous thieves; thoughts of gay-Jewish guys flittered into his brain. And he couldn’t wait to sign onto his computer to opine. Or something like that. (more…)
This is a true crime website. I’ve written this genre for a while and have become a familiar name to those who like to read “in-your-face” style reporting. We’re a shame site. We find stories that vary in scope and nature but we generally try to pick crimes that the big media ignores – crimes that are heinous and deserve to have some light shined upon them. (or are just too stupid to ignore) We don’t give two shits about hurting someone’s feelings when telling the story. If some “innocent” person’s name gets drug through the mud because they’re still choosing to hang out with and defend the idiots, in my opinion, they deserve shit too. (more…)